Through New Eyes
by Pagan Ianthe
Summary: Years after the end of the war Hermione is working for Draco at Malfoy Industries but she has allowed professional and personal to cross the boundary that they never should. She needs to take a step back and look at her life and options through fresh eyes before everything is ruined and she makes a huge mistake that there is no going back from.


Title: Through New Eyes  
Rating: M  
Disclaimer: These characters are not mine, they are the property of JK Rowling, Warner Bros, Bloomsbury Books in the UK.  
Summary: Years after the end of the war Hermione is working for Draco at Malfoy Industries but she has allowed professional and personal to cross the boundary that they never should. She needs to take a step back and look at her life and options through fresh eyes before everything is ruined and she makes a huge mistake that there is no going back from.

The overpowering scent of incense was heavy in the air and hundreds of candles floated around the congregation, dripping wax on those unfortunate enough to have forgotten to wear their hats.

Hermione sat close to the back, unable to look away from the couple exchanging their vows rather solemnly at the pulpit, even while her heart broke in half and then shattered into a thousand pieces at their feet as they walked back down the aisle, their many guests clapping quietly in congratulation.

"Aren't they just so perfect together?" one woman, wearing a blatantly vulgar flower-covered pink confection on her head, asked her companion as they stood to shuffle out of the pew. "They look incredibly happy."

"I completely agree. The wedding was wonderful," the other woman, this one wearing a vile bright purple 'pillar-box' style hat, stated.

Sucking in a deep breath and pasting a fake, but hopefully cheery, smile onto her face, she walked slowly behind the dregs of the congregation, hoping that the majority of the photographs would have been taken by the time Ron's ageing Great-Great-Aunt Esmerelda had manoeuvred her wheelchair out of the church.

"Hermione, there you are, dear. Wasn't it just a beautiful ceremony?" Molly Weasley, wearing a pale blue suit that she had very obviously not picked out for herself, hugged Hermione tightly to her ample chest, and Hermione allowed herself to enjoy the sensation of much-missed affection for a few moments, but she knew that she wouldn't be able to prevent the tears that threatened if she stayed in the Weasley matriarch's embrace for too long.

"It was lovely," Hermione agreed; her fake smile firmly on her lips. "They make the perfect couple."

"Yes, well..."Molly muttered as she watched her son being fussed at by his new bride. She was obviously scolding him about his slightly untidy collar, which wasn't looking exactly how she wanted it to. "We'll have to wait and see. I so wish that..." Releasing Hermione awkwardly, Molly took a step away and attempted something that resembled her usual smile. Over Molly's shoulder she noticed Luna and Ginny gesturing to her and, welcoming the respite, she lightly squeezed the older woman's arms and made her way over to her two friends.

"I thought that would never end," Ginny laughed as she pulled the tiny glitter-covered butterfly clip out of her elaborate up-do and massaged her sore scalp for a few moments.

"You aren't the only one," Hermione murmured, watching the 'happy couple' as they posed for yet another ridiculous photograph; hands held in front of their bodies to show off the gaudy wedding rings they had selected for each other.

"You had a lucky escape there, Hermione," Ginny uttered as she clasped one of Hermione's icy hands between hers and squeezed it lightly. "Though I don't know about Ron. Think he may well have entered hell, what with his _adoring_ Lav Lav being such a bossy cow."

"You think so, Gin?" Hermione asked; the obvious hurt in her tone letting both her friends know that she really wasn't all that sure she didn't want to be in the Bride's shoes.

"There is someone out there for everyone, Hermione," Luna said rather dreamily, her eyes focused on Neville who, as part of the Groom's party was dressed in another of Lavender's rather disgusting and effeminate designs – an outfit that suited no one at all.

"Of course, it took Lavender getting knocked up for him to actually propose, and then he only did it because mum was pointing her wand at the back of his head at the time, not that I think mum is that impressed by the new Mrs Weasley. That bitch is worse than Phlegm," Ginny giggled, watching as Ron did something that his new wife didn't approve of and got a slap around the back of the head for his trouble.

Hermione blinked, startled at Ginny's revelation, then narrowed her eyes and studied Lavender a little more closely. "She does look a bit thicker around the middle," Hermione observed, her spirits rising a little bit when she realised that she really didn't want to be on the receiving end of a wandpoint marriage proposal. Attempting a lighter tone, trying very hard to show that she didn't care that this wasn't _her _wedding, Hermione asked the disgruntled bridesmaid, "so when's she due?" Watching the 'happy couple' she now noticed the strain around Lavender's mouth and the lack of shine in Ron's blue eyes. No, they weren't as happy as they were making out.

"I think that mum mentioned she's already about five months along, she's just managing to hide it quite well." With a smirk on her face she dropped the butterfly shaped hairclip on the ground and happily, and rather childishly, stomped on it. "She's also managing quite well to make my feet hurt and that clip was really uncomfortable."

Giggling, the three girls made their way over to the Portkey point and quickly grabbed onto an old ballet shoe that had just started to spark with the first signs of departure.

"Hope the bar's good," Hermione yelled over the rush of noise in her ears as she struggled to keep a firm hold on the Portkey.

The bar was indeed good; the Brown family had obviously spent a considerable amount of money on ensuring their guests had a good time. To most pure-blooded families this 'good time' involved the availability of a well-stocked bar which provided every alcoholic drink known to Wizarding kind, and some that previously weren't.

After her third Screwdriver, Hermione was feeling fairly pleasantly lightheaded, and as though she didn't have a care in the world. She was sitting down at a table with Luna, Neville and a few more friends from Hogwarts, but the conversation was more background noise than anything else.

The speeches had been unbearably painful, not because they reminded Hermione that she should have been the one in the white dress, but because it was blatantly obvious that Harry felt out of his comfort zone, he stammered his way through an over-rehearsed speech, his face flushed with alcohol and embarrassment.

The first dance of the bride and groom was the bit that Hermione had been dreading the most all day. Ever since childhood she had fantasised; not about the wedding, the dress or the exchanging of vows, but of the first dance, the moment that her husband would take her in his arms and hold her protectively close as they danced to _their_ song. For so long she had believed that this wedding would be hers, that _she_ would be the one marrying Ron. She had been in love with him for nearly half her life, but it was obvious he didn't feel the same way about her, and though it wasn't easy she was going to have to learn to accept it.

As the music started Hermione had to struggle to keep the laughter from escaping too loudly; Celestina Warbeck? They had chosen _Celestina Warbeck_? Looking across at Luna, Hermione took a mouthful of her fifth Screwdriver and choked. "Please tell me that Ron didn't pick this," she said, biting back another burst of laughter.

"Hermione, didn't know if you would come," Harry wrapped his arms around her shoulders and hugged her, yelling his greeting in her ear. "Ron wasn't sure if you had accepted or not." He reached his arms around her and placed his empty glass on the bar before tightening his hold on her, ready to comfort her should the need arise.

"He's a moron," Harry grumbled as Ron obviously stepped on Lavender's foot, causing her to glare at him – things were definitely not all right in the state of Denmark with those two.

Harry knew that the whole wedding thing hadn't been easy for their third to accept, but she seemed to be doing okay, no sign of tears or imminent breakdown, so he continued to hug her tightly; swaying along to the music as Ron and Lavender moved awkwardly around the dance floor, both doing their best to hide that they weren't exactly jubilant.

"You called it," Hermione responded, doing her best to keep her tone light and carefree, continuing to watch Ron as he attempted a move that he had obviously only recently learned – a move that made his lack of skill on the dance floor that much more apparent.

"So when's it going to be your turn?" Hermione asked, taking her eyes off Ron for a few moments, just long enough to catch Harry's glance in Ginny's direction. "She won't wait around forever for you to make a decision, you know."

Resting his chin on top of her head, Harry seemed to consider her statement for a while, and then nodded. "I know." He was quiet for a few moments and then wrapped his arms around her shoulders, hugging her against him. "So when are we going to meet the new man in your life?"

For a second Hermione paused, and then she started laughing; there was no way that she was going to introduce them to the man she was seeing, he was about as far from appropriate as she could get without resurrecting Voldemort and going out with him; that added to the fact that she could hardly call what they were doing _dating_! She wrapped her arms around her stomach and laughed until tears collected on her mascara-darkened eyelashes. "Oh, Harry! You are so funny." Wiping her eyes with the back of one hand, relieved that the mascara was completely waterproof (Muggles were good for some things), she looked at her best male friend and grinned. "I have sworn completely off men for the time being."

Just one table over Parvati and her twin, the rather less bitchy Padma, started to giggle. They had been listening to every word Hermione said – at Lavender's request – and Parvati was unable to hold back on the sarcasm at Hermione's statement. "What she _means_ is that she can't find any one who will put up with her totally superior attitude." Their voices were just loud enough that they carried, it was blatantly obvious that the statement had been intentionally hurtful and that the Patil twins had intended for Hermione to hear them.

Sucking in a deep breath, and refusing to rise to the bait, Hermione shrugged off their comment as though it hadn't cut into her like a knife, and returned to hugging Harry, swaying to the music as Celestina rose to a rather ear-shattering crescendo. On the dance floor Ron and Lavender came to a stop and, to quiet applause from the guests surrounding them, took an, Hermione thought, unnecessary bow.

Seeing Hermione and Harry standing by the bar, Ron pressed a kiss to Lavender's incredibly rosy cheek and walked over to them, a cheery smile on his face.

"Aren't you going to congratulate me, Hermione?" Ron sounded, unsurprisingly, a little bit cautious, and just a little bit drunk – he had probably needed more than a few measures of Ogden's for confidence before walking down the aisle that morning.

Hermione almost jumped out of her skin when she heard the words uttered in his oh-so-familiar voice. She was tempted to ignore him, but her emotions had always been strong where he was concerned; whether anger or passion, she never failed to react, ambivalence was absolutely impossible where Ron Weasley was concerned. "Congratulations, Ron," she muttered as she turned her head and lifted her eyes to look at him.

"You could hardly expect me to wait for you forever," he sounded like a petulant child now, though Hermione had hardly done anything to deserve his attitude.

"Did I say that?" Hermione turned and looked at Harry; fake confusion on her face. "Did you hear me say that?"

"There's no need to be so spiteful, Hermione. It's hardly as though I was the only one who was _amusing _myself elsewhere. You could at least pretend to be happy for me."

Harry rolled his eyes at Ron's complete stupidity. Did he really think that Hermione would be pleased for him when he had married the one person who had made her life sheer hell at school? He was just about to say something when he noticed Lavender heading in their direction. Shaking his head he tightened his arms around Hermione for a moment, then reached behind him to hand her a half-full glass of champagne. "Hold tight, you might need this."

"Oh Hermione, I am so glad you came today." Lavender's high-pitched irritating voice interrupted before Ron could say anything else. She had noticed Ron talking with her – though they had only exchanged a few brief words – and had hurried to stand beside him to ensure that nothing she didn't approve was said. As though nothing Hermione could say was of any importance, Lavender continued to prattle on, giving Hermione no chance at all to answer any questions – had she been so inclined. "Hasn't it been just a _perfect_ day?" Narrowing her eyes at the girl she had always felt was her rival – even though Hermione had been completely unaware of this rivalry, Lavender reached down and clasped Ron's hand tightly, her nails digging in just a little.

"Yes, it's been _glorious_," Hermione responded, attempting to inject as much contempt into it as she could, though not enough that it wouldn't go completely over Ron's head.

"Ronnikins was so afraid that you wouldn't come. He thought that you might be _jealous_. So, did you bring a date?" Glaring at Hermione she didn't even attempt to hide the fact that she wasn't a welcome guest at the occasion.

"Not unless he's invisible," Hermione took a gulp of her drink, finishing it in two mouthfuls before putting the glass down loudly on the bar. "You never know who you'll meet at this sort of thing, thought I'd keep my options open." Smirking she glanced quickly across the room to where Lavender's two older brothers were standing.

A snide expression on her face – one that Hermione was rather familiar with – Lavender turned to her husband and leaned in to him, "Won Won, I think that we should share our news." Her voice was loud enough that it easily carried over the song that had just started.

With a particularly vicious glare in Hermione's direction, Lavender pointed her wand at her own throat to amplify her already loud voice. "Everyone...Ron and I have a really wonderful announcement to make."

Harry dropped his arms from around Hermione's shoulders and reached down to grasp her hands tightly, squeezing them in an effort to offer support. He and Ron had already had several 'discussions' about this announcement. He was furious that his friend was so uncaring of the feelings of anyone else, and embarrassed that the man he had fought alongside on the battlefield was now allowing such a shallow creature to lead him around by the balls.

"In 3 months we will be welcoming a little girl into the family." She delivered the words with visible relish as she continued to stare Hermione down. Unfortunately for her, if she expected Hermione to back down or run away sobbing, then she was in for a heck of a lot of disappointment.

All around her Hermione could hear the buzz of conversation increasing to a dull roar that threatened to deafen her, as the happy congregation talked animatedly about the 'wonderful' news, but she didn't allow the words to penetrate, instead focusing on the fact that she had obviously had a lucky escape. Stifling a grin, Hermione watched as across the dance floor a particularly furious-looking Molly Weasley was making her way to the newlyweds, her face looked like thunder. "Oh dear, looks like Ron is about to get an ear-bashing. Molly looks livid," Hermione mumbled, though she sounded anything but pitying.

"You don't appear too surprised," Harry said as he watched her face for reaction.

"No, Ginny sort of told me at the church, said that it was a wandpoint proposal," she grinned and then picked up the glass containing her Screwdriver and drank until the half-full glass was empty. "Right, do you want a drink?" She said the words just that little bit too brightly, and Harry wondered quite how long it would be before she came down to earth with an unpleasant and painful crash; he just hoped that whenever it was she wouldn't be alone to experience it.

At the bar Hermione ordered herself another Screwdriver, got a shot of Ogden's for Harry and, when she was sure no one was looking, downed a shot of José Cuervo Gold, enjoying the burning sensation as it flowed over her tongue and down her throat. Swaying just a little bit, she made her way back to Harry, handed him his glass and then sat down, toed off her shoes and took a healthy gulp of her fresh drink.

"Are you sure you should be drinking so much, Hermione? You haven't eaten anything." Harry could see that she was slightly less steady on her feet than usual, and her eyes were a little bit too bright, her cheeks just that tiny bit redder.

Fighting back the urge to snap as she really wanted, she took a deep breath to calm her frayed nerves and gave Harry as sincere a smile as was possible given the circumstances, "I'm fine, Harry. Stop mothering me, I am perfectly capable of looking after myself." Seeing the concern in Harry's green eyes she closed her eyes for a moment and then reached over and squeezed his hand, "the bar's free, they have peanuts if I get desperate, and I haven't had a break from work in weeks. Just let me enjoy it." She took another sip of her drink and then watched the crowds gathered around Lavender, who was happily telling anyone within hearing distance about how she had been so clever to hide the rather advanced pregnancy in her wonderfully designed wedding dress.

"Aren't you going to congratulate _me_?" She narrowed her eyes at the girl she had always considered her rival, and grinned in a manner that to an oblivious stranger would appear friendly, but, to those that knew her, it was obvious contained an element of malice that Lavender had always reserved for Hermione. She was blatantly playing to her audience, hoping to humiliate Hermione as much as humanly possible.

"Congratulations, Lavender. I hope you get everything you deserve," she returned Lavender's smile with one that was only marginally more sincere. "Of course, you do realise that Ron's always going to be tied to mummy's apron strings, don't you?" She nodded her head in the direction of the location where Molly was yelling at her youngest son, a smirk on her face. Fighting the desire to flounce off in a manner more befitting Lavender or one of her cronies, Hermione placed her half-full glass back on the bar, gathered up the small clutch purse she had purchased specifically to go with her dressy _Manolo Blahnik_ stiletto heels and draped her thin wrap over one arm, "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get up early in the morning, and really need to get home before my pumpkin turns into a coach."

Giggling a little bit frantically, Hermione pushed her feet into her shoes, uncaring that she had just pushed her big toe through her tights, or that she had just carelessly burst a new (and rather painful) blister on the ball of her foot, which she could feel growing even sorer as the seconds passed. She walked closer to the main exit and, with a dramatic pop, apparated out of the building.

Her flat was just as she had left it that morning; clothes strewn over her un-made bed, the blinds still drawn, blocking out the faint orange glow from a streetlight that some wise person had – in the early 19th Century – installed just outside her bedroom window. The faint smell of the chain-smoked cigarettes she had puffed on as she readied herself for the wedding ordeal still lingered on the air.

Sitting at the dressing table she opened the top drawer and pulled out the packet of cigarettes she had started to keep there for moments just like these. Lighting one she spent a few moments studying her reflection as she sucked in a lungful of nicotine and blew out a few smoke rings, watching as they dissipated into the air above her head. Setting the smouldering cigarette in the crystal ashtray in front of the mirror she took just a few moments to cleanse her face of the makeup she had spent careful minutes applying earlier that afternoon.

"Those things will kill you, Granger. You really should think about quitting."

Startled out of her quiet rumination, Hermione blew a few smoke rings and, doing her best attempt at Audrey Hepburn from _Breakfast at Tiffany's_ turned, "how did you get in here? I thought I set the wards to stun!"

"If I didn't know how to get 'round your wards by now, Granger, I would likely be dead already," plucking the cigarette from between her fingers he put it to his lips and pulled a drag from it before stubbing it out in the ashtray on her dresser. "I hope that someone told you that you look fucking amazing tonight," he muttered as he pulled her into his arms and pressed a kiss against the curve of her neck. "I need to fuck you."

Pressing her hands against his chest, Hermione managed to push herself out of his embrace, "I thought I made it quite clear I didn't want to do this with you anymore." Turning back to the dressing table she massaged some moisturiser into her cheeks, smoothing it under her eyes and into her lips.

"Don't do this, Hermione," he pressed his front against her back, grinding his erection into the curve of her arse, his eyes closed and his nose buried in the unruly curls piled haphazardly on top of her head. "You know that you want me."

"Draco, has anyone ever told you no?" She knew that she would give in. The high emotion of the day coupled with the fact that she was more than a little bit pissed made for a very stressed and horny Hermione. She just wished that he didn't know it too.

Narrowing his eyes just a little he took a small step towards her and stroked his fingers along her décolletage, "Say yes, Granger. I promise that you won't regret it."

Closing her eyes Hermione leaned into his touch and sighed as he tugged her close and took her lips in a searing kiss that removed all thoughts of rejection from her mind.

They fell onto Hermione's bed in a tangle of limbs, frantically tugging their clothes off before Hermione wrapped her legs around his hips and, taking just a moment to guide the tip of his cock to her entrance, Draco rocked his hips and slid inside her slick heat.

Hermione sucked in a breath as he withdrew and then thrust inside her again quickly. Her nails dug into his shoulders and she opened her mouth against his neck. "Fuck me," she pleaded as he rolled his hips against hers, his eyes closed and his whole body taut as he continued to move above her, his hands curled into fists in the pillow either side of her head.

"Shit, Granger, you are the best fuck..." On a roar he thrust inside her madly for a few moments before his movements became erratic and he lost control completely. He moved a hand between their bodies and began to flick his thumb against her distended clit, pushing her towards an orgasm.

As much as Hermione hated him, she had to admit that Draco Malfoy never left her wanting, unless of course it was for the affection she knew he didn't feel for her.

Within moments he had collapsed on her as the last shudders of her orgasm wracked her body. He withdrew quickly, and rolled off her to lie on his back, staring at the ceiling as he caught his breath.

"Good bye Malfoy, don't forget to reset the wards on your way out," Hermione muttered as she rolled onto her side, tugging the duvet over her head and fell into a restless sleep.

Pissed off at being so summarily dismissed, and irritated that he had allowed himself to be used, Draco hurriedly pulled on his clothes and stormed out of the flat, pausing only long enough to put the most cursory and essentially useless wards on her front door.

The next morning, feeling a little bit the worse for wear, Hermione pulled on her usual work uniform; dull grey skirt and matching well-fitted jacket with a white blouse, the minimum of jewellery – a matching necklace and stud earrings from her parents – and the barest hint of makeup. She made her way to the office through the communal floo in the main lobby of her building, emerging a few moments later in the large glass atrium entranceway of Malfoy Industries.

After graduating from Sarum College with a combined honours degree in Charms and Potions there had been many offers from the Ministry and various other companies both in Britain and abroad, but for some reason she couldn't make sense of, she had chosen to accept Draco's offer of a position in their potion lab, working on combining the best of Muggle medical ingenuity and Wizarding potioneering to find treatments for the various illnesses that it had been previously impossible to prevent. Giving her the freedom to run her own lab, Malfoy had effectively hammered the final nail in the coffin of her relationship with Ron.

Without thinking about it, Hermione knew that getting involved with Malfoy had been the stupidest thing she had ever done, but still something had drawn her to him and as hard as she tried she had been unable to resist the draw of the forbidden. Even knowing that Harry would never talk to her again should he find out what she had been doing hadn't been enough for her to end it.

"Looking pretty shitty today there, Granger," Theo Nott grinned sarcastically and made a thumbs up sign at her as she flipped him the finger and walked to her office.

"Very witty, Nott. Get me a coffee and then come in, I want a few words with you about the Hickey case." Slamming the door loudly she slumped down in her chair and closed her eyes, fighting the nausea that always hit her the morning after a heavy night out.

"Is it safe?" Theo opened the door quietly and peered in, holding the steaming cup of hazelnut coffee in front of him like a shield.

"Take a pew," she kicked the spare chair in his direction and watched as he stepped into the office and sat down.

"You look like you could do with this," he pushed the mug across the desk to her, smirking when she lifted it to her lips and took a healthy mouthful, sighing in relief as the caffeinated brew started to help alleviate the symptoms of a killer hangover. "You did it again, didn't you?"

Hermione blinked innocently, hiding a grimace behind her mug, "did what again?"

"You fucked him again," Theo stated bluntly, surreptitiously clenching his fists under the desk, wondering why Hermione was so drawn to someone who had made it his job for seven years to make her life hell.

"I was drunk," she responded, placing the mug back on the desk and fiddling nervously with the charm on her necklace. Why did Theo always make her feel like a disobedient child?

"So you make a habit of fucking men when you're drunk?" He was so angry with her that he had to look away before she saw the fury on his face. For what felt like years he had been trying to get her attention when it seemed all he really needed to do was get her pissed and over-emotional.

"It's not like that, Theo, and you know it. I was feeling like crap yesterday. It was Ron's wedding and Lavender was being such a cow that I..."

"Carry on making the excuses, Granger. I know that yesterday wasn't exactly a highlight or anything, but don't lie to make yourself feel better about it all. You wanted what Malfoy was offering so you took it." He started to tap the arms of the chair with his fingers, wondering why exactly he felt the need to be her whipping boy whenever she did something she so obviously regretted afterwards. Shouldn't this be the sort of conversation she had with the other person involved?

"That's hardly fair, Theo." Wondering why she was feeling so hurt, Hermione took another sip of her coffee and considered the man in front of her. She had no idea when they had gone from being classroom adversaries to friends, but there was no denying that since coming to work at Malfoy Industries he had become the only person she felt comfortable confiding in.

"Fair or not, you can't deny that you enjoy what happens when he takes charge. The fact that you can't stand him is neither here nor there." Standing up he walked over to the door. "Now, if that was all you wanted to talk about, I really should be getting back to work. There's a lot to do before the presentation to the Board this afternoon." Without a backward glance, Theo left, leaving Hermione feeling just a little bemused; it was obvious that there was something wrong with Theo, but she had no idea what it was.

After her conversation with Theo the day continued to go downhill fast. The meeting with the Board had been a last minute addition to the department schedule and, despite a considerable amount of hard work from the team, neither Hermione or Theo were quite prepared for the barrage of questions they were bombarded with when Lucius Malfoy decided that today was the day to make his annual visit to the company his grandfather had founded.

By the time six o'clock came around Hermione felt as though she had been pulled through the wringer a couple of times, and she had never been so relieved that she had booked the next day off as holiday – not that she had any plans except to stay in bed with a large box of chocolates and a couple of books she had been meaning to read for months.

She was just packing up a few things to lock away in the confidential filing cabinet when her office door opened and Draco stepped through. "Perfect timing wouldn't you say, Granger?" he stated as he perched on the edge of her desk – so effortlessly casual that Hermione would have been jealous if she cared about how she appeared to anyone else.

"Malfoy, I don't have time for this right now. I have a date tonight." Hermione continued to pack away her things, and twisted the key in the filing cabinet before tucking it into her purse.

Indignant, Draco stood up and stalked over to stand in front of her, his hands curling around her shoulders, "You're mine, Granger. You don't date anyone unless I say so...and I don't say so!"

Smothering an amused smile, Hermione shrugged his hands away from her and walked to the door. "I will see you on Wednesday, Draco." Considering their short conversation over, Hermione left the office, fully aware that Draco was watching her departure.

Not even pausing to drop her bag as she emerged from the fireplace in her living room, Hermione passed through the kitchen, poured herself a large glass of Pinot before heading into the bathroom and turning on the taps.

Sinking down into the steaming bubbles, Hermione took a sip of the wine and closed her eyes, leaning her head back against the soft bath pillow and releasing her breath on a quiet sigh of bliss. Today had been yet another crappy day in a series of extremely crappy days, and recently she had started to wonder if perhaps she needed to simply take a break from all of it and go off somewhere to escape from the complicated nightmare her life had recently become.

She had just started to doze, the empty glass on the floor beside the tub, when she heard the floo activate and the unmistakeable mutterings of Draco as he tripped over her bag and stumbled into the corner of the coffee table. "Granger, you fucking tease; you come out here and talk to me," he yelled, his voice slightly slurred, obviously more than a little drunk.

Groaning, Hermione climbed out of the bath and wrapped a large towel around her like a sarong before walking into the lounge. "Draco, I'm not on the clock anymore. Go home and sleep it off." She was unable to keep the exhaustion from her voice as she walked over to the fireplace, leaned tiredly against the mantle and looked at him.

"You listen to me, Herm...Granger. No one says it's over but me. And I didn't say it's over, not yet!"

"For God's sake, Malfoy! Get the message, I don't want this anymore. Just go home!" She threw a handful of floo powder in the fire and, as the flames burned green.

"We haven't talked yet...and I came here to talk."

Rolling her eyes, Hermione ushered him towards the fireplace, "I am sure you did, Draco. It's just that there is nothing left for us to talk about."

Grumbling, but realising that he was on a loss for the evening, Draco stepped into the hearth, uttered a quiet "Malfoy Towers" and headed home.

Hermione spent the next day mostly thinking about things. Perhaps it really was time to move on to something else, leave Draco and Malfoy Industries behind and find a new challenge.

"I don't want to hear it, Granger. I'm not one of your little girly friends who will commiserate with you over the loss of your _one true love_." He lifted his hands and made sarcastic air quotes around 'one true love', no longer able to hide his irritation.

"Fuck you, Nott!" Hermione spat, her nails digging into her palms as she fought the desire to slap him across the face, knocking that smarmy grin right off it.

"No, fuck you, Granger. You seem to think that I am this pussy-whipped little dick you can confide in whenever things don't go how you want, but you've never been more wrong."

"What the hell is your issue?" Putting her hands up to her head to ward off the pounding headache that was starting behind her eyes, Hermione wondered what the hell they were fighting about. Theo was usually the only person that she could talk to about the whole Draco issue. He normally seemed to understand and almost sympathise with her, it was almost as though he was in a similar situation or something.

"You want to know what my issue is?" Theo stood up and kicked his chair back before skirting around the desk and pulling Hermione up from her seat. "My issue is that I am sick to fucking death of waiting for you to stop fucking around with Malfoy..." Before he had a moment to think about where this was going he pulled her into his arms and covered her lips with his own, smothering any protest she might have made given the opportunity.

Pulling back with a gasp, Hermione raised her hand and slapped Theo around the face before stalking out of her office, "You bastard. How dare you?" she yelled as she headed to the stairs, slamming the door to the department so hard behind her that the windows shook.

Slumping down in his cubicle, Theo banged his head against the desk, cursing his stupidity and impatience. He had so poorly misjudged things, letting his emotions take the driving seat. Rubbing his cheek he wondered what he could tell his mates when they met for drinks tonight; Hermione certainly knew how to slap a guy; that was going to leave a pretty nasty bruise!


End file.
